Final Fantasy VII: Fallen Existence, Part I of V
by Surrect Tiger
Summary: Six years after the Meteor incident, Shinra has completely turned around, but so have many people. On the surface, the Planet seems at peace, at rest. What is under the mask is far, far from it.


Final Fantasy VII and everything related to it is Squaresoft's property.

This story was written by QualmC661.

Note: This story contains major spoilers (along with some errors) in the game. Do not read unless you have finished it, or want to wreck everything you've been waiting for.

****

Prologue

A cloaked man smiled as he saw the car drive into the alley. It was a long, black limousine with two fake Shinra flags attached to the front of the hood. The headlights illuminated the dark space between the two buildings, puddles of water or mud reflecting the brightness. The car stopped, and a door opened on the left side. A short man stepped out, and walked to him. "You are the one I'm expecting?" he asked.

"Only if you are who I'm expecting." Was his cold, dark answer.

"Very well."

"I want the information I paid for, Mr. …"

"My name is Michael Sismond."

"Very well, Mr. Sismond."

"If you paid as much as you did for the little bit of information I'm about to give you I'd say you're out of your mind."  
"Say what you like, but give me what I paid for."

"Fine. The Cargo you've been mentioning comes from, as far as I know, Costa del Sol. It then travels by ship to the outer eastern edge of this continent, and is delivered, by vehicle transportation, to Midgar."

"What is being transferred?"

"That, I don't know."

"I was just testing you. Of course you know. I will get _exactly_ what I paid for, Mr. Sismond. And _now_."

"…It's radioactive Mako."

"Why radioactive? Surely it's treated by people at Costa del Sol before it's shipped."  
"No. The only thing that's changed is its container. We change the labels to make it look legal."

"So, one, you're also involved in this…", Sismond shook his head, "…and two, you're using untreated radioactive Mako. For what?"

"Like you said so yourself, sir, you'll only get what you paid for, which is not enough for that much information."

"Then maybe this'll get me through for a minute or two," Said the cloaked man, pulling out a bag of Gil. Sismond took it, and put it in a pocket.

"Of course it will, legally or not."

"What is legal, Mr. Sismond, is far outside of our business. The law has nothing to do with it."

"If that's how you see fit. We're using the Mako for a special project, one that's still too much for your prices to reach."

"You won't be getting anymore money from me, Mr. Sismond…but maybe an exchange of information?"

"What sort of information?" asked Sismond.

"Only the kind that is illegal to be told." His half-enemy smiled at the sound of 'illegal'.

"…How will I know if you'll tell me yours if I tell you mine."

"Because," said the cloaked man, "You can be sure you'll never give out any information again if you don't trust me."

"…I accept. But you go first."

"Fine. Two days ago, Shinra began to build a new machine out just below the Northern Crater."

"What for?"

"Don't interrupt me. The defects of Shinra are building it, announcing that it will produce purer air for humans, animals, and plant life to breathe. What _we_ are planning to do is release a chemical that hinders emotional effects, selected by the controller of the machine. It releases the chemicals only to selected areas of the world, and may infect everything but people chosen. Of course, we will choose not to infect the other people who are defecting."

"But, why would they do that? The only thing it would do is make people stop crying, fussing , and fighting the-" Sismond stopped short. _…stop fighting the anti-Shinra forces_, Sismond didn't say. His mouth dropped open. _…Oh, man…How in the world?… _The cloaked man simply smiled.

"Exactly," answered the man simply.

"The toxins," said Sismond, "glide throughout the air, and catch only selected people. Without emotions, they won't be able to reject to the opposing forces of the defects." He put a hand to his chin. "_Ingenious_."

"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure these things out, Mr. Sismond." Said the cloaked one. "…It takes a chemist." He smiled, but only briefly. "Now, Sismond, I've given you my information. Let's hear yours." Sismond frowned, then shrugged with an unsure look pasted to his face.

"Very well. What would you like to hear?"

"Whatever I have earned by telling you my little secret."

"You've earned very much, then…" Sismond then smiled. "About a month ago, we began the trading."

"But I've seen these illegal transactions occur for nearly half a year. You wouldn't be lying to me, now would you, Sismond?"

"Don't interrupt me." He smiled at the cloaked man, liking that he had the tables turned. "About a month ago, we began trading with special armed forces that call themselves the "Chrome Scorpions". They offered us a special item that we couldn't refuse, but only for radioactive Mako. I have no idea why they would want it, but they offered us several million Gil and a little gem."

"Which was?…"

"Which _is_, my friend, a sample of special cells." With this statement, Sismond revealed a small vial with a black cap screwed into the top. Inside was a small purple liquid. The cloaked man's eyes went wide with almost _fear_ at sight of the vial. Sismond nearly destroyed the sides of his face with such a large smile. "Well, it seems as if you're familiar with these types of cells."

"Those…where'd they find them?"

"They didn't tell us, but what do we care? As long as they're alive…"

"Alive?…so I heard. Your boss told me about those a few days ago."

"Oh yeah, that plan…" said Sismond, thinking to himself. "I suppose he won't be able to carry it out if he doesn't have the right supplies to do the job with."

"…You say they're alive?"  
"Excuse me, _preserved_…I guess you know what this little gem can do, don't you?"

"Mr. Sismond, I'm tired of your games." The cloaked man revealed a pistol. It was a silver one with a black grip, and had a miniature eagle in place of a sight. "You will give me that _curse_ in five seconds, or you will lose your life." Sismond gave him an odd look, then wasted no time in handing him the small vial, and backed off. The cloaked man looked closely at the vial, but didn't shake or open it, as a regular person would have done…but this man was _far _from regular. "…Nice to have done business with you, Mr. Sismond." Both men, as if on cue, turned to go their own ways, the cloaked man back to the place he came from, and Mr. Sismond to his limousine.

"Oh, and, by the way…" said the cloaked man, both turning to once again face each other. "If anyone asks, you were never here." He revealed the pistol once more, and shot Mr. Sismond in the side. The man's eyes went wide as he dropped to the side of his car. He looked at the cloaked man, and groaned, "You…'ll…never…get away…"

"Oh, maybe not every time, Sismond…" said the man, putting the pistol in it's holster. "…But today, I will. Goodnight." Sismond's sight blurred, and became black. He fell asleep, but in to one which he would never awaken from.

****

FINAL FANTASY VII-

FALLEN EXISTENCE

Part I of V

****

There were many clouds in the sky. It was going to be a stormy day, full of snow and hail. The Northern continent wasn't very well known for its permanent, disastrous snow. It was always freezing, an icy graveyard for anyone who would travel it unprepared. Many hundred miles across, it was certain death to an inexperienced (and even some highly trained) explorers. Cloud after black, hated cloud was rolling throughout the barren skies, leaving a tattered feeling in the hearts of those who looked on near the burning tents and buildings. The weather, much less time, was not on their side right now.

Cloud Strife and Cid Highwind were both standing out on the far edge of the Northern Crater, looking at the wreckage site. Cloud, with spiky blond hair and a determined face, was dressed in a black coat and pants with black leather gloves, and had a pair of protective plastic goggles on. He was wearing his occasional Buster Sword strapped to his back, and an iron shoulder pad on his left arm.

Cid, on the other hand, was nearly freezing to death. "When I told you to dress for the Northern Crater weather," noted Cloud earlier, "I didn't say a word about tropical climate." Though Cid wasn't exactly dressed for tropical weather, he wasn't dressed for stinging permanent winter, either. He was wearing his average clothes, a pair of shorts, a blue vest, a white shirt, light brown shoes, and a bandanna. The only things keeping him warm were his gloves. His blond, short hair was frazzled all over the place by the screaming wind. He lit a cigarette, and began to inhale harshly.

"You know that isn't going to help you at all, don't you?" asked Cloud.

"Whatever." Was his blank answer.

"What do you think about it?" asked Cloud, turning his sight back to the wreckage.

"Not sure. It's only been there a day or two."

"But who could cause that destruction?"

"Not who, but _what_?" What they were looking at was a smoking mass of burnt rubble and demolished belongings. They were assigned to some project someone had proposed in Shinra, to build a new machine out near the crater. Shinra wasn't what it used to be before Meteor…it was all turned around, now. They hardly had any armed forces, and everyone was free to do with what they pleased…by law, of course. But the change turned some of the civilizations that were owned by Shinra around, too…

Anyway, they were assigned to build something that would filter the oxygen for more and clearer breathing air…something Cloud's team wasn't much interested in. The new President, Tyler, brother of the deceased Reeve, had hired Cloud and his partners many times in the six years since Meteor struck. Now Shinra was a good name on people's lips.

But some things had gone wrong since the last two weeks of the production. One of the largest problems was what they were staring at now. Discovered yesterday, their partner team, Team Betus, had been attacked by someone or something out here. Cloud and his party were on team one, Primus. Primus was to watch and guard as the Betus Team constructed the machine. Now Betus had nearly been destroyed, and there was no use in currently doing anything but calling President Tyler.

"Hello?" asked President Tyler Shinra, rubbing his eyes and constantly yawning. He had messed up brown hair from sleeping, and a wide face with deep, sunken in brown eyes. "…Cloud?" At the mentioning of Cloud's voice, three people aroused and looked at him with worry. These three people were the President's secretary, the ice President, and Tifa Lockheart, whom Cloud had left behind in case of danger. He left her with Yuffie and Elena. The Turks had recently joined the party without much recognition, morale, or even skill left, and had no quarrel with their recent newly made friends. Cloud, Cid, Barret, Rude, Red XIII, and Cait Sith. Vincent was out somewhere in Midgar, apparently…he oddly disappeared after the Meteor incident, never to be seen or heard from again. It was a sad moment at his departure, but only a brief one.

"Cloud, why are you…no, you didn't catch me asleep. Yeah…she's fine." Tyler was nodding or shaking his head while giving the broken up answers. The whole time, Tifa kept beckoning for the phone, snatching her wrist and loudly whispering "_Give it!…Now!_". Finally, after Tyler talked for a minute or so, he nodded and handed the phone to Tifa. "Cloud? What happened!?" She listened, and all Tyler could hear was a faint buzzing sound on the other side of the phone, coming on and off frequently. "…Uh huh…yeah…no, he didn't. Not a thing, yet. He just gave the phone to me. How long…" She paused, and Tyler could hear something loud over the phone. She held it away from her ear, and looked at it for a second. After bringing it closer, she asked, "Cloud, what was that?…But they…how…if…" Her expression went blank. "…In two hours or so."

Tyler began to wave his hands, and signaling to give the phone back while loudly whispering "_No…no! No way!_" But it was too late. She had already said "Yeah, I'll be right there." And clicked off the PHS before Tyler could run around his desk and grab it. "We've got to get there…now!" Said Tifa. Tyler looked at her in disbelief.

"Why should you?"

"He wants you too. He said it was something important and wouldn't tell me what because I'd worry too much. It that true?"

"Well…" started Tyler. He thought back at times when Cloud was in trouble, and an exact, if not greater, number of times how she had gone over the edge. It seemed like there was something she just couldn't tell him. "…Let's go. It _did_ sound fairly important. He, Elena, and Yuffie grabbed a coat, a large amount of clothing, and other various items, and boarded a helicopter bound for the Northern crater.

Cloud, Rude, and Cid shielded their eyes as the helicopter began to land two hours later. It was a big white copter with the word "ShiNra" printed on it, with a capital "N" covering the door. The legs of the vehicle touched the ground, and almost immediately, the door opened. The first person out was President Tyler, and Cloud and Cid ran up to help him then Tifa out. Tyler's mouth dropped at sight of the destruction. The smoke was just dying down when they had arrived. "You never told me it was this bad!" exclaimed Tyler.

"I never tell you how bad _anything_ is," answered Cloud. "You just have to be in the middle of it before you realize how serious something is."

"I guess you're right. You say you found this yesterday?"

"No, Red did. He came running when he first saw the flames, and came to us."

"…And?"  
"…Well, what do you think we did? We tried to put out the fire, and search for survivors."

"Were there any?"

"Two. The first one's not good enough to do anything. He can only eat and sleep. We don't know what's wrong wit him."  
"And the second?"  
"Second says it was a small army, but we think he's a few fries short of a meal. What would an army be doing out here?"

"…How could someone have done this?"

"Well, it happened, so we might as well just forget it happened." Tyler looked at him with a weird gaze. He never really said things like that unless something else was more important.

"I guess I see your point…maybe."

"Besides," said Cloud, "if it _was _an army, we would've heard it."

"Anything else?"

"Not really. Everything else was blown away." Tyler looked over at Reno, Elena, and Rude, who were all talking vigorously.

"…Did they…uh…give you any trouble?"

"Not yet…but they haven't helped, either." Tyler sighed. Cloud and his party hadn't put up with the Turks very well, with or without conflict.

"How may I help…" asked a short, fat man in a small brown office. He paused to look up and see a cloaked man walk into the room. "…you?" The cloaked man smiled, then sat down in front of him. "You may be interested in-"

"Don't start it." Interrupted the man.

"Sir, there are special…times for customers like yourself." His 'customer' sat down in the chair, and leaned back.

"I don't care about your 'times', I want your boss." The cloaked man leaned forward, and the short fat one stood up, and left the office.

A minute later, he returned with a woman who was very tall, had a black suit on, and had short black hair. "…Arington," said the cloaked man, "you have a poor choice in short fat receptionists." At this, the receptionist cringed.

"Very…rude."  
"Once you're used to illegal, you don't mind rude after a while."

"I would think so. Now, after all this fussing with my assistant, what is it you've brought me?"

"What is it that I'll get paid?"  
"Do you think you're going to get paid?"

"I'd better." The cloaked man gave her a threatening look.

"Then tell me what you know, already." The cloaked one looked at her oddly, and then leaned forward in his chair.

"Fine. As you know, they're illegally moving the products southwest to Midgar."

"…From?"

"From Costa del Sol, according to what I heard from our last 'visitor'."

"What are they transporting?"

"From what I've gathered, they're moving radioactive Mako, for some reason. I'm not exactly sure why?"

"What for?" asked the woman, finally returning his odd look.

"For a special little prize."

"Which is?…"

"…This," said the man, revealing the purple vial he had claimed earlier. The woman's eyes went wide at sight of the container, and took a step back.

"…You…where did you get that!?"  
"…From our visitor you bought, who's got heartburn right now."  
"I'm not going to ask what you did with him, but what are you going to do with that!?"  
"…Whatever I choose to." The woman took another step back.

"Hand that over right now!"

"And why should I?"

__

"For one reason, you'll receive a grand payment."

"…How grand?"  
"Giars, how much do we have in the bank?" asked the woman to the receptionist.

"…Fifty Million point five Gil, ma'am." Was his answer. She looked back to the cloaked man.

"…I'll give you twenty million."

"For this? …Hardly." The woman frowned at him.

"…You're turning down twenty _million_ Gil!?"

"I'd rather own over twenty million people by threat than own some amount of money."

"Thirty million…that's my final offer."

"No deal. Apparently, you don't know the value of this little treasure."

"Forty million! Please! And my stock in Midgar's business can be added."  
"I'm truly sorry, but apparently you still underestimate it's value."

"Fifty million, when I gain it! The stock, and my property near Mt. Nibel…almost 200 acres." The cloaked man shook his head, and looked sourly at her.

"Why do you want this so bad?"  
"You know it's power! You know what it can do! Don't you remember what happened just before Meteor-"

"I don't care what happened before Meteor…only what is going on right now. I say no deal."

"Please! I'll give you anything you want."  
"Anything? Truly?"  
"…Yes! Anything!"  
"No…you can't do for me what this can." The woman then took a step forward.

"Giars." The short man stood up at his name being called out. "Get security." As Giars began to move for the door, the cloaked man pulled out his eagle-tipped pistol.

"Well, this isn't the way you usually treat a guest, is it?" asked the man. Giars took a step away from the door. "We'll discuss what deal we can make for this precious little…sample."

DeVich watched as the bustling city streets, littered with people and cars, moved quickly about him. Everything seemed so normal out here…people going to attend their jobs…children playing and laughing…it was all so common to see every day. But what _wasn't_ seen were the uncommon things. Things Maaron DeVich was associated in. He saw a long, glossy black limousine pull up to the side of the street, and step out. The man bowed to him, and he stood up from the green wooden bench. His short black hair blew back and forth on his head. He had a black, thin beard and mustache and looked very foreign compared to other people walking around him.

He moved towards the car with great care, making sure no one was watching him. He quickly stepped in, and the door shut. Everything was dark. He could hear light breathing and a little movement, but other than that, all was silent. Then a deep voiced man spoke, his words tearing through everyone's thoughts. "DeVich?" asked the man.

"Yes." Answered Maaron. Then, right after he answered, a little flame illuminated the interior of the beautiful limousine. His eyes immediately went to the flame, which was a lighter, burning the tip of a cigarette in a man's mouth. It was an expensive, pure gold lighter with the imprint of a unicorn which had ruby eyes. The man was very large, had black hair and a beard, and was wearing a black suit and tie, like he was dressed up for a business meeting. _But this isn't business_, thought DeVich. _It's much more than that_.

"You are whom I spoke to at our encounter three days ago?" DeVich thought back, remembering how they had met that short time ago, and now they were already doing business…but DeVich strictly denied it. It was in his mind that they were dealing with something important, trading and personal economical growth, but to him, it still wasn't business. His contact in Wutai, about a month ago, had told him about this man, and how infamous he was for his trading. _Still_, he thought, _what I have is far too valuable for him to turn down_.

"…I am." DeVich answered.

"Then you know why you are here. You know how you got here. We shall take a pleasant drive around town, and get to know each other." He cracked open the widow, and signaled to the driver to go on ahead. The driver bowed, and got into the front of the limousine. After they had been driving for ten minutes, DeVich began to think that the man was waiting for him to talk first. So he did. "…Um…I have-"

"I know what you have." Interrupted the man. "How much will it cost me?"  
"As much as I had to pay for it."

"How much was that?" The man, all of a sudden, seemed annoyed.

"A life and five million."

"A life? What on earth do you mean by that?" The man looked at him, with great attention I his answer.

"One of my men died last night while…_haggling_ over issues."

"Issues? What issues?"

"Just something I didn't want him to tell anyone. Before I could get there, he had already been killed. He was shot from about fifty feet away."

"So sorry about that."

"It's not your fault, Mr…?" DeVich, suddenly put into mystery, realized that he didn't know this man's name.

"My name is Pophioni Maridion, but my friends call me 'Pops'." DeVich had to smile at that. Even if he didn't know this guy's name, he had to admit that, in the time that DeVich knew him, he _did _have a good sense of humor.

"Okay then…Pops…"

"Mr. DeVich, back to the subject, what will I have to do to get this 'item'?"

"…There is a man I was dealing with. I actually never knew _his_ name, either, but he was very cold about everything. He was the one who killed my client. He makes his own guns, but he favors one. You should be able to distinguish him from it."

"What does it look like?"

"It's a pistol, a silver one. It has an eagle on the front, and it's ammunition is very small. Smaller than the smallest you've seen."

"Then how can he kill someone with it? At least from the distance you described?"

"It's poisonous. One shot could take down anything living."

"Well, what should I do about him?"

"He stole the item. Apparently, my assistant stole it from me, and brought it to him." Pops looked at him oddly for only a second, then sighed.

"Are you saying you don't _have_ the vial?"  
"…Yes sir."

"I give you your first deal, and you screw it up. _One deal._ This isn't going to look good on your sad, sad memories, DeVich."

"What!?"

"…Such sad memories people will have." Pops revealed a pistol from behind his suit, and pointed it at DeVich's head. "I hope they'll remember who gave him his deal though." Just as Pops began to pull on the trigger, DeVich shouted "Wait!!!" at him.

"What is it?"

"…You may not want to kill me just yet!" DeVich was breathing hard. His heart was beating so hard Pops could eve notice it, and he was sweating all over.

"Why not?"

"I have one more deal in mind."

Red XIII opened a door with his mouth, and pushed the door away from the wall with his snout. He ran into a makeshift meeting room, and loudly said, "Cloud!"

"What?"

"Someone's just arrived." Cloud looked at him, then out the door. He saw two people walk into the small building, where it was warm inside. There were two or three tables, and chairs surrounding them Cloud was standing between two of the tables as they walked in. The first, a woman, was very attractive. She had long, red hair, and beautiful blue eyes. She was fairly tall, at least taller than the man.

He, on the other hand, didn't look so well. He came in smiling, and Cloud noticed he had a slightly cross-eyed vision. His hair was swooped to his right, and his arms hung loosely from his slumped shoulders. They both were wearing brown coats and blue, thick pants.

"Hello," began the woman, "I am Dr. Laura Wind, and this is my brother." She looked at him, and gave him a childish look. He returned the smile. She asked him, as if to a four year old, "Paul, can you tell him your name?" The man nodded hard, his shoulders bouncing with the gesture.

"Hai, aIam Paaul Waeend." He said, in slurred speech. _Something's wrong with this guy_, thought Cloud. She looked back to him, and said, "You are Cloud Strife?"

"Yes ma'am."

"May I speak to you in private?"

"…I guess so." He led her to a private building on the other side of the Primus site, and as they entered, Cloud forgot about the temperature, and was blasted back by very warm air. As he closed the door, both pulled off their hoods. "What are you doing here?" asked Cloud, before she could say anything.

"…It's about my brother."

"Yeah, what's his problem?"

"He has…he's mentally ill."

"He's retarded?"

"He's _ill_," said Laura, seeming offended by Cloud's selection of words.

"Well, what are you here for, if it's about him?"

"He says he knows who attacked the Shinra Betus team, and why they attacked."  
"How does he know? How did he even know they were attacked?"

"He watches TV twenty four hours a day."

"What did he tell you?"  
"He didn't tell me anything. He won't talk to me. He said he would only talk to Cloud Strife, or you, apparently."

"Then I guess I'll have to go talk to him, right?"

"Yeah. Please…be patient with him."

"I'll do my best. But if I can't get past who did it, you can't help me anymore than a rock." Laura gave him a mean look, and slightly nodded. They exited the private room, and reentered the meeting building. Paul was just standing there, and Tifa was talking to him. Cloud watched as she tried her best to communicate.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"…aIam Pauaal Waeend."

"What are you doing here?"  
"aI caan'at tall you."

"Who can you tell?"

"…Claoud Straiaff." She looked at him oddly, then turned to see Cloud. She motioned for him to come, and he did.

"Here's Cloud." She stepped away a Cloud came closer to him.

"…Um…hello, Paul."

"Haello."  
"I'm Cloud Strife."

"You're Claoud Straiaf."

"Right. Now, I need to ask you some questions." Paul then looked at him cross-eyed, and nodded with the upper part of his body. "Okay, Paul. Laura says you know who attacked Shinra Betus Team."

"Ch…Chinra."

"Right, Shinra. Do you know who did?  
"Who did. Chinra did."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Chinra. About Chinra did. Chinra."

"Paul!…Paul. Do you _know_ who attacked Shinra?"

"Chinra. Who attacked Chinra."

"Right. Who attacked Shinra?"

"They did."

"Who did?"  
"Attack. They attack. Chinra about Chinra." Cloud was beginning to get annoyed. He knew Paul couldn't help it, but there was only so much one could take in a day.

"Paul, listen to me, please."

"Paual lissun."

"Good. Paul, will you _please_ tell me who attacked Shinra?"  
"Chinra did." Cloud threw up his hands, and turned back to Laura. She shrugged with a disappointed look on her face, then walked over to them.

"See?" she said. "You just need to be patient with him." Cloud put his head in his hands, then looked at Paul.

"Paul, please tell me what you mean.

"Paual tell? Paual tell Chinra."

"No, Paul, tell me."

"Paual tell Chinra." Then something struck Cloud odd. Why would he only tell Shinra?

"Paul, I am part of Shinra. You can tell me."

"Paual tell Claoud Straiaf. Paual tell Chinra."

"Right, then tell me what you mean."

"Chinra attack Chinra." Cloud looked back to Laura, and shook his head.

"We're not getting anywhere. You might as well go back home. He can't help us." Paul looked at him, and his unforgettable grin left his face. _Cloud is Shinra?_, he thought o himself. _Cloud is Shinra not now. Cloud begin nothing._

Laura nodded, then motioned for Paul to come to her. Together, they left the building. As soon as they did, Red ran in to he room, and began shouting.

"Cloud!"

"What!?"

"Tyler sad he found that those defects _did_ attack the Betus team. We just don't know why." Cloud looked back out the door, and saw Paul and Laura climbing back into a helicopter that was parked outside. His memory shot into his eyes, and he remembered what Paul was saying.

_"Paul, I am part of Shinra. You can tell me."_

"Paual tell Claoud Straiaf. Paual tell Chinra."

"Right, then tell me what you mean."

"Chinra attack Chinra."

Something was different about this man. He was different from other mentally ill people…something was different about it.

"Paul!!! Wait!!!" He shouted. He ran out to the helicopter, and caught Paul just as he was climbing in. "Paul! We still need you! Don't you know who attacked Shinra!?"  
"Paual naught needed by Chinra. Paual see Clauod not me." Cloud looked at him oddly for a second, then understood what he was saying. When Cloud had said that Paul couldn't help them, it hurt his feelings.

"Paul, I was wrong. We still need you." Paul looked at him oddly for a second, then his smile returned to his face. _There's still something different here_, thought Cloud.

"Glad to have done business with you," said the cloaked man as he exited the office, and walked out into a street deep in the heart of Midgar. The woman watched him leave, along with Giars, who was still offended by the man's earlier comment about himself.

"Ms. Arington," said Giars, "what was our deal?" He hadn't been in the office while the conversation took place. Arington had become tired of him just standing there and listening, and eventually invited him to leave with a _now-or-you're-fired_ look.

"Nothing." She answered. "Nothing happened. He let me take care of a job, and said that if I do it with an acceptable rating on _his_ terms, I _might_ get it."  
"What is it, ma'am? I've never seen that before."

"Giars, get in here. I can't explain in public." Both reentered the office, and she shut the door. Making sure there were no other clients sitting around, she sat down and crossed one leg over another. "Now, Giars, there were special projects going on around here several years ago. Do you remember a man named Dr. Hojo?"

"I've heard of him," answered the secretary.

"Well, a few decades ago, he began a project he called 'Jenova'. It was named after a woman he had experimented on. She gave birth to a baby named Sephiroth,-" Giars's eyes went wide at the name "-and raised him. This-and-that happened, time passed by. Then he came around with new things he called 'Jenova' cells. Of course, being the madman he was, he tried this out on a few people. Meanwhile, during all of this, people from SOLDIER were being used as experiments. Their enhanced bodies would help them be able to take the cells without being hurt. Some of the experiments were already dead specimens, one named Cloud Strife."

"But, ma'am, you know as well as I do-"

"That he's alive. I know, I know. Don't interrupt me. Anyway, Cloud Strife was a low-ranking Shinra soldier. He was used to help escort General Sephiroth, who was also in Shinra at the time, through Mt. Nibel. Their guide was Tifa Lockhart, and another man protecting him named Zack (I'm not sure of his last name). Sephiroth, some time on the trip, found the Jenova Project in a part of Mt. Nibel, in some Mako reactor. This-and-that happened, and eventually, after Sephiroth discovered Jenova was his mother, he lost his mind. Running back to the reactor from Nibelheim, he tore open the Jenova lock, and released her. Zack tried to stop him, but was driven through by Sephiroth. Tifa ran in to help, and found her father lying dead on the floor. She picked up his sword, and Sephiroth struck her back, wounding her pretty badly.

Last of all, while Sephiroth was leaving the reactor and crossing a bridge, he found Cloud Strife, who was just leaving the ruins of his hometown, Nibelheim, which was torched by Sephiroth. Seeing Zack and Tifa, he ran at Sephiroth himself. Sephiroth drove him through with his sword, and just as Cloud was about to fall, he lifted Sephiroth into the air by grabbing and lifting the sword, and pulled it out over the edge, sending Sephiroth plummeting down into the Mako hundreds of feet below."

"Ma'am, what on earth does this have to do with his deal with you?"

"As I was saying before," she said harshly, as if t embarrass him, "Cloud sooner or later died. Hojo found his body and Zack's, but both were missing or had parts unable to function, and combined parts with each other. Most of it was Cloud, so it's considered to be him. Anyway, Hojo put the Jenova Cells in Cloud, and the cells were powerful enough to revive him. The Cells, now disregarding Cloud, are some of the most powerful living beings on the face of this Planet, and could do almost _anything_. They're what saved but nearly destroyed this Planet."

"How rare are they?"

"They're not rare. Except for the small vial you just saw, they're _extinct_." Giars turned back to see that the man could not be found anywhere. Usually, he watched a usual client exit the building and walk away for about ten minutes, but this man was far different from other people.

DeVich smiled as he and Pops talked for nearly two hours. He _couldn't _stop smiling, the man had too great a sense of humor. But under that, it was a man who terrorized the world with his apprentices and friends. If he didn't do it personally, he did it socially at least. This man owned Gil in the trillions digit. He owned parts on other places of the world, but DeVich never knew why. From what he had seen, it was just farming land and grazing sites for cattle and sheep, but knowing this man, _underneath_ the land was something much different than what it all seemed like.

"You like my offer?" asked DeVich, finally. He looked out the window, noticing the sun was coming closer and closer to the horizon. It would be close to nightfall soon, and he had another deal to go along with. This one had come totally unexpected.

"…I like it very much. How much do I owe you, now?"

"Three million Gil."

"I thought you said one million!"  
"I said three million…unless, that is, you want to be free."  
"I always knew that the phrase 'Freedom comes with a price' was true."  
"Deal?" asked DeVich.

"…Deal." Answered Pops, shaking his hand. As DeVich pulled his hand away, he felt something in his palm that Pops had pushed into it. He looked at it. It was a note. He unfolded it, and read: _DeVich, the driver is listening to us. He knows what our deal is. Thing is, I don't want _everyone_ I hire to have complete freedom. For another ten million, I'll buy a controlling part from you…to control my…'clients'. And as for the driver…well, if you don't like violence, you had better leave now._ DeVich looked up at him, and smiled. He simply nodded.

"Well, I think I had better be leaving. I'll see you later, 'Pops'…"

"…Chow!" said Pops unexpectedly.

"…Uh…chow!…I guess…" He opened the door, and climbed out. He smiled and watched the car drive away, and he could hear a faint gunshot, and the car swerved off course for a second. After a while, it began to drive in a straight line again.

The deal he had just made was enormous, compared to others he was working with. Operation Necromancer, as he had personally named it, was under his control. He had hired a mercenary group…something defecting from Shinra…to go and attack one of two teams that was planting a new machine up just below the Northern Crater, and it had gone successfully…and much to his benefit. Now he would let the other team set up the machine, and when the were done…Ka-BOOM!…And Shinra would be out of business within a week. He would take control of the machine, which was to filter air, and would put in a sample of the Jenova cells. The machine would make them a gaseous chemical, and it would float around the world, intoxicating people and forcing them to follow orders sent out by DeVich himself. It was a smart plan, and the reason he wanted to only attack one of the teams was to make it harder for the other team to fight back when they were done with their self-demising job. Now, Pops owned a share in the plan, and for a grand total of thirteen million, he would have control over his own clients.

Cloud seated Paul in the meeting room, and sat down across from him. To his left was Tifa, and to Paul's right was Laura. "Okay, Paul…", began Cloud. "Now, you said that Shinra attacked itself." A heavy nod. "And you say you know why Shinra attacked itself." A pause, then another nod. "…Then why did they?"

"Did who? Who did who?"

"Shinra, Paul. Why did Shinra attack itself?"

"Chinra attack Chinra."

"Right. Why did they attack?"

"Because of gas. Chinra about because of gas." Cloud looked at him like he would a two year old child with the mind of a thirty year old, but this was the exact opposite. This was still…out of place. Mentally ill people don't usually react like he did to the questions Cloud was asking.

"Because of gas?"

"Chinra attack about because of gas."

"Paul, why did Shinra attack because of the gas?"

"Because of gas."  
"What gas, Paul?"

"Gas that gasses you." Cloud looked at Tifa, then back to Paul.

"Paul, what does…Paul!" He was starting to look around, taking his eyes off Cloud. "Paul, what does the gas do?" Immediately, Paul looked back to him, and began to slightly rock back and forth.

"Gas controls. Gas goes in and controls."

"What does the gas control, Paul?"  
"It controls."

"Right, but what does it control?"

"Gas control was gasses." Cloud stood up, and pushed his chair in.

"Laura, can I have a word with you?" Laura stood up, and followed him to another side of the room. She crossed her arms, and asked, "What do you think about it?"

"All we know is that there's some gas that controls something. What would that mean?"

"I have no idea. He's always been like this…" They both looked back at him, and watched as Tifa tried to form an unsuccessful conversation with him. He just stared off into space, and answered her questions the best he could.

"What happened to him?" asked Cloud.

"His problem appeared to have begun when he was about four. He became really sick. I remember being there, I was about six or seven. I watched as they rushed around him doing Lord-knows-what. Weird, you know, how you never really notice how much you love them until they're in trouble."

"I can relate to that," said Cloud, remembering what happened to Aeris so long ago…yet it seemed like it was just the day before.

"Anyway, they started shouting about how they lost him. It was odd though…I seemed to be the only one to notice it."

"Notice what?"

"There was a glow in his eyes. It just appeared there for a split second, then it was gone. Then they started rejoicing about how he was revived, and how they had recovered him within a week…but he ended up like he is now. They told us, years later, that it was something the sickness did to his cerebrum. Now he's the way he is because of a sickness."

"What do you think the glow was?"

I don't have the slightest idea. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I've told myself that a thousand times, and it's failed a thousand and one times."

"…He acts differently from other retarded people."

"He's _mentally ill_," said Laura, once again stinging the word "ill".

"…Ill, that's what I meant. He acts differently from other mentally _ill_ people."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Haven't you noticed? A regular retar-" He caught himself. "…mentally ill person usually has trouble by how they use things to their benefit. For example, if you gave them a math problem, they would be able to receive the numbers you give them, and give you fast answer, but it wouldn't do them any good. This guy…Paul, I mean…he seems like he can put things to his benefit, but he just has a problem _receiving _information."

"I see your point. Let's try again." They walked back to a smiling Paul and a stressed Tifa, and sat down to once again begin the questioning.

"Paul." Said Cloud. Paul didn't seem to pay any attention to him, but after a second asked, "Cloud."

"What, Paul?"  
"I have…I…something to tell…to you." He began to rock back and forth as he was talking.

"What is it, Paul?"  
"The…the gas…it's…the gas."

"What about the gas, Paul?"

"The gas…it's the gas."

"What's the gas Paul? What are you telling me?" Paul nodded very large, as if Cloud had asked him a yes or no question. "Paul, what are you trying to tell me?" repeated Cloud.

"The gas…who about gas."

"Paul, are you…Paul!" He was beginning to look around oddly again. He quickly returned to his off-center gaze at Cloud. "…Are you trying to tell me who made the gas?" Paul nodded with his shoulders-up again. "Who made the gas, Paul?"

"Gas…by Chinra."

"Shinra made the gas?" A large nod. Cloud looked over to Tifa, and Red XIII, who had just walked into the room. "I think he means the defects."

"Defrects made gas…controlling gas."

"The defects made the gas, Paul?" A large nod. Cloud turned back to them, then Red, Tifa, and Cloud all crouched into a small circle. "What is this all about?" asked Red.

"This guy back here-" Cloud pointed to Paul, "-is telling us those defects who attacked Shinra Betus team are making some gas that 'controls'."

"Controls what?"

"That's what I want to know."

"Controls people." Paul said, from behind him. They all turned back to him, and waited for another statement. "Defrects made gas…to control people."

"What people, Paul?"

"…People."

"Paul, what…Paul!" Cloud caught him looking around the room again. "What are you looking at?" Paul simply looked back to Cloud, and for the first time, gave him a serious stare. Something was really wrong with him, something much greater than what a mentally ill person would have.

Pophioni looked off into the distance from his condo, out between Midgar and Kalm. He was standing on a deck, and looking out to see the beach several miles away. Everywhere else was just green land. He was smoking a cigar, and watching as seagulls flew towards the water ahead. …An odd thing to be happening this far away from the water. He leaned against wooden railing that kept him from taking a fifty-foot drop to an olympic-sized pool below.

Just as he began to enjoy the scenery, a man walked out onto the deck. He was wearing rags (I'm almost literal about that), and was darkly colored. He had black hair and goatee that was infested with tiny bugs, dirt, and soil. Before the man could muster anything out, Pops had already begun to talk. "What is it?"

"…S…Sir, I n-need to ask you something…"  
"What?" Pops didn't even turn around to see who it was. All the scum he held within his reach weren't really worth even _looking_ at.

"…I…we need…more food…sir…"  
"What do you mean, 'more food'?"  
"…S-sir, we're starving…three men died yesterday…"

"Then there's three parasites less from my sight."

"…B-but…" The man grasped his stomach as a hunger pain shot through out his body. He winced, then everything returned to normal. He knew what was happening, and it wouldn't be long before the disease taking them all would soon cleave through him.

"Was that all you wanted?"

"…A-also…we were wondering…when your promise would come…" At this, the man turned around. He walked up to the man, and took a long breath on his cigar. He pulled it from his mouth, and blew it into the man's face. It stung his eyes and rushed into his nose, seeming to almost burn his brain.

"I'll do my part when I _feel_ like it, Reeve." He grabbed the man by the shoulders, and punched him in the stomach. It knocked the air out of the man, and he collapsed to his knees. "…And that's not for you or your friends to decide."

"…Listen, old man," said Reeve, as he came to his feet. "…that was four years ago…now we…we've done our part…now you need to take care of yours." Pops looked at him coldly for a second, then smiled. He put an arm across his back, and walked him to the railing.

"…Reeve, Reeve, there's many people out in the world. I mean, look at it…" He held his hand containing the cigar out to the beautiful view. Mountains to the north and a vast ocean to the west stood miles and miles away, the sun sending a column of light across the surface of the water and creating shadows behind each valley. "Reeve, do you really think this…vast empire…could possibly contain every person with the same attitude towards things?" He reared back, taking his hand off Reeve's shoulder, and smacked him across the face, leaving a stinging circle on his cheek. "There's the nice." He smacked Reeve again. "There's the evil." As he reared back, Reeve caught his hand in mid-air, and didn't even blink.

"Then there's my type." Said Reeve, looking at him with a dark stare. There was just something odd about the way they stared at one another, for what must have been almost thirty seconds. Pophioni pulled his hand away, and put the cigar back in his mouth. He looked back over to the scenery, and shrugged.

"…Give me a week."

"You have three days." Pophioni looked back over to him with rage, then calmed down, and actually smiled.

"…And who are _you_ to give limits to _me_?"

"I'm the one who's been given my own limits, and actually obeyed them," answered Reeve. "…Now it's about time for you to start following yours." Pops looked back to the ocean, and motioned for him to leave. Business was over for the day, but that didn't mean they wouldn't be there tomorrow.

Cloud put his thoughts about the day behind him as he headed for the makeshift dormitory. Cid, Red, Rude, Barret, and the others would be there. He let Paul and Laura stay in the meeting room, and gave them both cushions and roll-out beds to sleep on. Tifa caught him before he entered the small building, and beckoned him to come to the private room he had spoken to Laura in earlier in the day. He followed her, and together, they both entered. He pulled off his hood while she began talking.

"Cloud, what are they doing here?"

"I have no idea. She says he knows who attacked Shinra Betus team, and why."

"And does he?"

"As far as I see it, no." answered Cloud.

"Then why did you put up with them?"

"I don't know, Tifa. Things happen, and they can't be changed after they happen.'

"What?"

"Just forget about it," said Cloud, "it's all over, anyway. We don't need to worry about it now. We'll have to construct that machine ourselves, whether we like it, or not."

"…Do you like it?"  
"If it does what Tyler says, yeah."  
"…Why do you think they would attack the Shinra Betus Team?"

"How should I know?" Cloud began to notice a pattern. "…What is it, Tifa?" he finally asked. Something was up.

"…I don't know, I'm just worried."

"About what? This stuff happens all the time." He pulled on his hood. "All we need to do is forget about it. He opened the door, and walked out into the night, while Tifa watched.

_No, Cloud,_ thought Tifa, _this stuff doesn't always happen all the time. It never happens. And that's not what I'm worried about, anyway…_

Arlington looked, through green, sharp binoculars, at the settlement. It was far ahead of them, maybe three or four miles at the most. Giars was standing behind her, awaiting her next command. She put the binoculars down, and could barely see the buildings with her naked eye, despite the snow. It was a foggy morning, especially when it was about to storm through an ice-covered area. She reached back, with binoculars in hand, and Giars immediately took the pair.

"Is that who we're looking for?" asked Giars, ignorantly.

"Of course, Giars. That's them."

"Are we going to do it now?" he asked.

"Not right now, but later."

"Why not?" He was really beginning to get on her last nerve. She turned and scowled at him.

"Be quiet, little man. Our time will come. They can't be expecting us, but with you around, they'll expect anything." Giars looked down shamefully. His life wasn't the best out there, especially for the last five years. She looked on still, wondering when the time would be right. It wouldn't be long. Things like this…opportunities…_privileges_…came only once in a lifetime. Giars had never personally seen anything she had done related to this, but he soon would. Very soon.

Cloud awoke with a start. He shot up, sweating around his neck, breathing hard. He felt as if his body were in an explosion. Then he looked around, and adjusted to his settings. He was back I the dormitory, just a few miles below the Northern Crater. He got up out of bed, and put the rest of his clothes on. He put the Buster Sword to his back, and put on a few pairs of shirts and a coat, and exited the building.

Outside was something he didn't expect. He was blown back into the dormitory by blazing fire. He leapt up, his heart beating fast, to see what was going on. A fire, as soon as he had opened the door, crawled into the room. He looked around for another way to escape the blazing lethal lights. On his left, he saw a window. He ran up, and drove the handle of his sword through it, and climbed out. The second he did, the soft roof fell into itself, consuming everything inside the building. He looked around, and saw that the entire camp was ablaze, people running here and there. He spotted Tifa and Laura crouched behind a wall, yelling something to each other. He began to run to them, and was caught in the side by something sharp…a bullet. Someone was shooting at him!

He looked to his left, and saw a Shinra soldier aiming and firing at him. He revealed his sword, and struck down the man…but something was different about him. Patches and medals had all been removed, all replaced with "SM" patches. Cloud sheathed his sword, and began to run to the two women again.

"What's going on!?" shouted Cloud to them, when he arrived. The two stared at him for a second, then Laura answered.

"Someone's attacked the camp!" she shouted back.

"I can see that!", not meaning to be the least bit funny.

"They look like Shinra soldiers, but they don't have the same appearance!"  
"I know! Shinra soldiers always attack in pairs, these guys run around individually!" A spark flashed behind Tifa, and Cloud pushed her and Laura down and crouched himself as a stream of bullets made a line of dots above them.

"We need to find the others!" shouted Tifa. Then Laura's eyes went wide.

"We need to find Paul!" She shouted back. Tifa looked at Cloud, and shouted to him, "You help her find Paul, I'll find the others!" Cloud simply nodded, and they all went off different ways.

The cloaked man came to the entrance, and was greeted by a snarling chocobo, which was frothing at the mouth. It was chained to a post near the door, and made a screaming/barking noise as the man came close to it. The door opened, and a man appeared there. Immediately, the screaming/barking stopped. The man walked over and pet the rabid but controlled oversized bird, and looked at the cloaked man. "You want to do a little more business?"

"…If you're up to it." The man invited the other in, and both entered the building together. He guided the man to a kitchen or dining type area, and let him be seated at a small table. They were far out of reach of anyone else, in a least expected place on the Planet. Even if they could, no one would even _want_ to find them, for fear of what might happen to them. Both men, put together, would create a disaster area to a war zone within a few seconds.

"I do, if I like what you have to offer." The cloaked man revealed the small, purple vial. Unlike 99.9 percent of average people, he didn't even blink, as if things such as this came across every day. He shrugged, and leaned forward to set his chin in a hand.

"_This_ is what I have to offer."

"…So? That's all?"

"Apparently, you don't understand the power of this little treasure." The cloaked man thought he was going to launch into the same conversation he had with Arington earlier, but was filled with concern at why this man took the subject so lightly.

"I don't? What's so important about that?" asked the man.

"Narrys, you know as well as I do what this is."

"Oh, I do?" asked Narrys, the uncloaked man. "Perhaps you, with your high IQ, would like to explain it to me."

"One word…Jenova Cells."

"That's two words, you onion. And besides, they don't help me." The cloaked man looked at him. Now his apprehensions were getting the better of him.

"Why not?"

"In the time I worked with you, I thought you would have understood that jenova Cells cannot be preserved."

"What!? I have them right here. They're even moving around."

"You ever hear of 'Premius Dectum Nitrate'? A new chemical Shinra found. Repels itself from sugar water. That's what's moving around in there. And the preservation liquid? …Just purple food coloring, probably. What did that cost the person you got it from?"

"A life."

"And what did it cost you?"

"A bullet. Man, they're getting expensive on ammunition these days, and that's why I make my own." He was apparently more worried about losing a bullet than killing someone. After he had done it his first time, taking a life could be so easy…

"Well, consider yourself ripped off." The cloaked man laughed.

"Yeah, I thought you would say something like that. Well, then, whoever owned this crap was planning to rip someone off."

"Excuse me?"

"…Rip…me…off. Well, it was fun, anyway. At least I got something out of my system. I need a stress relief once in a while."

"You saying you do these murders for business?"

"No, I'm saying I do my _job_ for business."

"Then what do you consider the killings?"

"…I'm not sure. A dessert with the meal, I guess." Killing was so easy. To save a life, now that was far different. That was why e did what he did. It was such an easy job, and it paid off extremely well.

"Now then, Tirren, what were…oh yes, I have a job for you."

"…Shoot, look at the time," joked Tirren, the cloaked man, "…gotta run. My time's up, got some dessert to kill off at eleven."

"…Well, if you have to. Come back here, though. That job…you would really like it."

"What're the basics?"  
"The opposite of your killing, but it's on your line of work."

"Killing _is_ my line of work, Narrys." Tirren walked to the door, opened it, and exited, leaving behind him a job to be returned to, a friend that owed him his life yet nothing, and a howling, rabid chocobo.

Cloud was the first to find Paul. He discovered him in the burning meeting room, where he had been sleeping. He was holding his ears, half moaning, half screaming, and running to no location in particular. "Paul! Paul!" shouted Cloud, trying to get the mentally ill man's attention. Paul looked at him, but kept running in a pointless path. "Paul! Listen to me! You are going to die if you keep running! Follow me!" Paul simply stopped for a few seconds with a confused look on his face. Then he saw a table, and ran to it. He held his hands out, and pushed them in, palms facing up. He turned, and ran out of the hazardous building with his hands out, slightly bent inward, as if he would be if he were carrying an unconscious person.

After seeing and thinking about the odd actions of Paul, Cloud exited the building quickly as possible. He beckoned for Paul to come with him, and after three or four echoes of the question, he finally followed Cloud. _Still so odd_, said Cloud. _This guy only seems to do what he understands. What was all of that about with the table…and why does he have such a problem when I ask him to do something_? It was very odd, to mark correct Cloud's statements of thought. Average retar…_mentally ill_, that is…people usually have a harder time putting their knowledge to use. So why does he have the opposite problem? He does the best he can to receive information, and when he does, he can put it to his use better than a regular person.

Cloud had remembered, also, that regular people with his sickness normally have a hard time keeping focused. They choose to be on a specific schedule, and choose to do only one thing most of that time. Paul would usually wonder around aimlessly, examining things so that he could get a better view of his limited little world. He never did one thing most of the time; on the contrary, he did many things at once. Cloud noticed, while they ate dinner the night before, he not only ate, but rocked, hummed an aimless tune, examined a powerless walkie-talkie, talked to Tifa, and revealed a permanent smile. Cloud didn't hardly even smile anymore, so Tifa noticed herself.

When they had found the others, all went, except Laura and Paul, to find some way to extinguish the roaring flames. This fire seemed like it was so large that it had happened in a week. Someone had planned this attack, most likely the leader of these rebellious Shinra soldiers. Cloud had to find their leader, but something Shinra was doing must have really been putting them out. This wasn't an ordinary assault tactic. This was truly a raid. Something had to be done about these terrorists, or the bombardments, all dating back to five years ago, would never be finished until one end was dead.

Arington, with Giars behind her, watched from a silenced helicopter from above. "This isn't what we had planned, Giars…" she said to him. "They're not following their orders.

"Their orders were, Miss Arington, that they should attack them. That was all I assigned." Arington turned to him, frowned, then smacked him hard. Giars jerked at impact, and looked at her in amazement. She never did anything like this. Now he was beginning to wonder if working for her was such a good idea.

"Giars, you little lard bucket, they were supposed to attack _after_ the machine was built. That was what our 'friend' ordered…and apparently you misunderstood."

"…Miss Arington, you only told me to order them to attack that specific team, and no time aligned for that attack." Arington looked at him in amazement. The day before, they had talked for about three hours on the subject of the surprise planned for Shinra Betus team. Now it was all failing miserably.

DeVich watched, along with Pophioni, the raid. It wasn't exactly what they had planned, but it was a good start for their illegal business. Everything was going just perfectly…well, almost. DeVich thought, while standing behind Pops, about how his assistant was killed two days ago. His life stopped, but DeVich's was more important, right now. Pops had no idea what was going on, but the fake vial was a good idea. The cloaked man had made DeVich the offer of letting Shinra build their little machine out in the snowy area. DeVich wondered what this was all about. He remembered it all:

"For what purpose?" asked DeVich, in reply to the cloaked man's, Tirren's, offer. 

"They say that it can make people healthier. It's supposed to purify the air, or something…"

"…But why at the Northern Crater?"

"Special pulses from beneath the surface of the Planet push _only_ the chemical the use away from it. They'll harness that energy, and make it so that it pushes in special directions."

"So you're planning to…"  
"Mr. DeVich, I and my company are planning to put a certain chemical in the machine that would make people barren of emotions."

"…Barren of emotions? What good would that do you?"

"Every bit as good as it _won't_ do you. Without emotions, people can't hate us. Therefore, they can't stand against us, find a reason to fight, and all be in _peace and harmony_, or whatever that crap is all about…oh yeah, they can't do that, either." The man smiled, as DeVich remembered, at that sentence.

…But that was two days ago. The man's idea was good, but not as good as DeVich's. Now the man was running for is life, and probably not even knowing it.

Tirren returned to the man's house five hours later, and tried to avoid the rabid chocobo. He knocked on the door several times, and waited. No answer. He tried again, and when there came no answer in three minutes, he finally opened the door. He walked through the house, saying, "Narrys, come out. It's me, and I want to talk to you about that job. When he came to the kitchen, he was surprised a little to find his friend, Narrys, laying on the floor, his mouth open in terror, his eyes wide open with fear. He had two large wounds across his head, bleeding. Tirren walked over to the corpse, and knelt down to it. He put his finger to the wound, and thought about what he felt. _Hmm…a thin, long saber, or a sword of some kind. Couldn't be a knife, the wounds are too deep…and the way they're deepest in the middle…it was something curved._

He looked on the table, and found a note lying there, with something scribbled on it. He picked it up, and read the following:

__

Tirren,

This is no party invitation. Stop you business, or you'll lose a lot more than your payments. Your friend ran into us (or, should I say, something ran into him), and it'll be the same for you, but we'll make sure that it's a long, painful death. Before he died, he told us to tell you something. I answered with "I would", thinking that I'd like to get you at your little game. Here's your last business trip;

Tirren stopped in the middle of the letter, and looked up at his friend. He had known many people who died, some of whom he even killed himself. But this was different. These two men owed each other their life, and Narrys was the first to go. Now a death hadn't meant anything more to him than it did now. His friend was dead, and if the job was so important it cost him his life Tirren was going to make sure that it was done perfectly the first time. He looked back down to the letter:

_7-15, 8-15-13-5, 12-15-15-11, put in machine. You should know what to do. That's your assignment. Please do it, I enjoy hunting down my enemies. I have no idea whatsoever that this might mean, but I'm sure you do._

Pophioni

So, Pophioni was in this. Sure, Tirren understood what the message meant, but he didn't understand why Pops would leave him something. He knew the man was an average killer, but to _want_ him to find a reason for it? …It wasn't like the man. Usually, when he wanted something, he would get it.

_7-15, 8-15-13-5, 12-15-15-11_, thought Tirren, _well if every number stands for each letter of the Primusbet, then, 7 is G, 15 is O, so there's GO. Go, that's apparent. 8-15-13…H-O-M…5 is E. GO HOME…what? Well, 12-15-15-11…L-O-O-K. So it's GO HOME LOOK._ Go home look? What on earth did _that _mean?

Pophioni, aside from DeVich, was enjoying what he was watching. Thirty minutes, thus far, had the fight lasted. One man in particular, a spiky, yellow-haired one, with a very large sword, was already hacking away through the rebellious forces. He began to wonder who they were; probably someone DeVich knew. He knew everyone. But, the thing was, why was DeVich involved in all of this? He usually dealt with non-violent issues, not these types of things…at least, from what Pophioni had heard about him.

…And what about the woman he mentioned? Early this morning, as they met, DeVich had told him about some woman…was Arington her name?…who was also involved in his. He said something about her owning these rebellious Shinra troops…called the Chrome Scorpions. Why was he attacking Shinra when they hadn't even built the machine yet? …Or did he even know about it?

DeVich was constantly thoughtless of these things. One of the Scorpion's leaders, someone named Miagri, was always talking to him. He was from Wutai, and had apparently known DeVich for a long time. He told Pohioni about their plan, and how the cloaked man would be attracted to it all. The machine wasn't created yet, so DeVich told him, but it would be, very soon. He said that the Chrome Scorpions were attacking them to steal the supplies, and build it the way they liked it. He mentioned that Arington would be upset; she was the one who hired them, after all. It cost almost 500 Gil a man, and that was a lot of money, if you counted almost 300 men. It was a real risk, because Shinra was known to have the best, well trained troops on the Planet…but this was really worth that risk.

DeVich had also told him that he had changed his own mind. They were going to attack. Before, they were going to let Betus create it themselves, and then attack. But why not go to all the trouble to have a little more of what you liked? They were going to create a machine that would filter the air thoroughly, but the Chrome Scorpions were planning to release a chemical that would revive anything that once lived. It had been tested before, about thirty years before. After Shinra launched the test, they couldn't find who it revived. It would put life from the dead soul into anything that was dead. Apparently, since DeVich was going to all this trouble, he must have known what he was doing…_but_, thought Pophioni, _he doesn't know a lot of things_.

Andreyin drove to the field in a dark brown car. It was an expensive one, a new compact sub-car that Shinra was just creating. It was really handy; it could go over 150 mph in thirty seconds. Faster than a headless chocobo. He left the car in a parking lot just left of the sign-in booth, and entered the golf course through the main gate. The wind blew through his rusty brown hair, slightly hurting and blurring his hazel eyes. He looked like a stalker, somewhat, against the morning sun. He examined the field, and found the man he was looking for.

He reached the man in about five minutes of walking. He arrived, and the man was already on his sixteenth hole. A caddie and several onlookers followed the man around, watching his every move. The man knew it was him as soon as he was within ten feet of his back. "Hello," he said, not looking up from his ball on the ground, waiting to be hammered to the destination some hundred or so yards away. Andreyin knew something was wrong by the sound of his voice. The man was particularly nervous, because he slightly began to shake. He raised the club a few times in the air, and acted as if he was going to blast the ball halfway around the world.

"I got your note," said Andreyin, messing up the man as soon as he was really about the hit. He quickly but unsuccessfully attempted to make the swing look like another fake swing, but accidentally tapped the ball four feet ahead of him. The man crossed his legs, and leaned on the club, looking at him, the club's end digging deep into the ground.

"…So you did. Then you know it wasn't my fault." The man pulled the club out of the ground, and walked back over to the ball. Raising the club again, he took a couple more practice swings.

"Everything's your fault when you own the company, Dalmatia," stated Andreyin, almost messing up the man, who was addressed as Dalmatia, his last name. He turned back to the man, and gave him an icy look.

"You think I would attack without my boss's consent?"

"I think _they_ would attack without their boss's consent."

"I can't help what they did," explained Thomas Dalmatia, "…or much less, what you think." The onlookers and caddie were all beginning to wonder what they were talking about. This man was popular, and along with popularity came people, which was a bad thing for Dalmatia.

"Then who can?" asked Andreyin.

"…Ask Arington. She was the one who attacked…or hired them, anyway."

"Then, if she hired them, how come you're not out there, 'fighting a good fight'?"

"Because I'm better at starting them than finishing them," answered Dalmatia, with a laugh. The smile vanished as Andreyin revealed a small, suppressed pistol inside his coat, not showing it to the small audience following Dalmatia.

"And I'm better at finishing them than starting them," whispered Andreyin. The man leaned on his golf club again, digging it into the ground once more, trying to keep as calm as e possibly could.

"One, what are you going to do while all these people are watching?"  
"Eight are watching, including the caddie. I have ten bullets in this gun, enough for everyone, and one still left for the unlucky soul watching from a distance."  
"…Okay…and two, why do you care? Are you saying you're on Shinra's side?"

"I'm saying nothing," replied Andreyin. "I'm _ordering_ you to withdraw your troops from the Northern Crater, or this will no longer be a friendly golf game."

"You know, I always wonder about these situations," stalled Dalmatia. "…What will you do if you kill me? There will be no one to tell the Chrome Scorpions to withdraw, and that will be the end of Shinra Betus team…_but_…there _is_ n option…" He tilted his head at the 'but'.

"What is it?" asked Andreyin.

"…Five million Gil, you know, could make Arington a _bit_ more…shall we say…uncommanding?"

"Five million…" echoed Andreyin. _This man doesn't really know where he is_, he thought. Even at the end of a gun, he was still smiling.

"Fine, then, never mind." Andreyin gave Dalmatia a sour look, then aimed, and perfectly shot the golf club from his enemy's hands. "Whoa!" said Dalmatia, surprised to find that this man wasn't afraid to shoot, like most other people. He held his hands halfway up.

"The Chrome Scorpions _will_ withdraw," said Andreyin. Dalmatia put his hands down, then nodded. As soon as Andreyin was gone, he walked over to his golf club, and picked it up. While examining it, an onlooker walked up to him from behind.

"Sir, what was that all abou-"

"Nothing," interrupted Dalmatia, "…absolutely nothing…" He turned the rod in his hands, closely observing the bent club, an impression where the bullet had hit. There was a deep, yellow liquid stained where it had hit….

As the day wore on, so did the party. They all finally put out the flames, and by the time they were done, Cloud noticed that all the enemies had vanished. Odd…

"Cloud," shouted Tyler, from behind, "get over here!" Cloud turned, and ran to the spot where the president was standing. He looked at the man, noticing an almost panicked look on his face. Underneath him was one of the attackers, but this one had a different look on his face. He was a sad looking, dying twenty-year-old. "This man was defecting." Announced the President.

"A defect rebelling against rebels," stated Cloud, "…a very odd thing to see."  
"Anyway, this guy says…well, you tell him." Cloud and the President knelt down to him, and he began to tell his story.

"There is a woman," he began, clenching his side in agonizing pain, "who led us. She is working for some man…a cloaked man."

"Is it…there's no way." Cloud said.  
"…What?" asked the President.

"…Is it…Sephiroth?"

"No," answered the man. "I is another…he carries a pistol with an eagle for a tip. He commands Arington to attack this Betus team."

"Why?"

"He had…a purple vial…I don't know what it means…" Cloud' eyes went wide at this remark.

"Oh, no…" He stood up, completely forgetting the man was there, looking at the horizon so many thousands of miles away.

"What is it, Cloud?"

"Have you…ever heard of the Jenova Cells?"

"Uh…I've heard people mention 'em."

"Well, that's a green vial. While Hojo was working on his projects, he fooled around with the crap and modified it. At first, it took no effect, and he thought it was useless, so he trashed it. A year later, he found out that the modification is controlled by a chemical called 'Latterus Dectum Nitrate."  
"…Yeah? So?"  
"Well, you know what Jenova Cells do, don't you?"

"…I have an idea."

"Well, these turn _anything_ even, and give it mental powers."

"So," said Tyler, "It could use something like…telepathy?"  
"Telepathy, mind-reading…you name it, it's got it. Its main purpose is to serve the owner." By the time Cloud looked back down on the ground, the man was holding his throat, and his mouth was beginning to foam. A sword to the side had fatally wounded him.

"Thermmm…" gurgled the man, his eyes beginning to blur.

"What?" asked Cloud. "What is it?"  
"Cr…mach…it'm…machee…destr…mmmach…" he looked up to Cloud, and stopped choking. He peacefully laid his head on the cold, icy ground. The snow became red and slightly warm in a three-foot radius around him.

"Death is a beautiful, disastrous thing," said Tyler, much to Cloud's amazement. As he turned his head to face the President, Tyler stood, and shook his head. "It relieves you from the trouble of this life."

"…And the disaster?" The President looked at him.

"…You can never have another chance to correct those troubles. If only people realized what impact it may have after they die…like in suicide. Running from your problems like that," stated the President, "only leave greater problems for those who are alive." How true this was. Cloud looked over to see Laura standing, and talking to another person. He motioned for her to come to him.

"Laura," said Cloud, "when I found Paul, I had a hard time getting him out of a burning building.  
"What do you expect?" she asked.

"…He did something…weird. He put his hands out, over a table, and ran out of the building like that."  
"Yes, that's what he always does." Cloud looked at her with a puzzled expression on his face. "Well, we trained him to get anyone sleeping out of the house, in case of a fire. I guess he mistook something for a sleeping person." Cloud gave her another odd look.

"…Just what I was talking about. He can put information to use, but he has a hard time absorbing it." Laura looked at Paul, who was more than a hundred feet from them. He was sitting at a table outside, rocking back and forth, while other tried to talk to him. She slowly nodded, thinking that there was something really wrong with him…something they didn't see, but he did.

Arington watched as the man died. She had never seen such a blood-filled battle, but it pleased her to know that nothing had gone almost lethally wrong…until now. Sure, the spiky-haired man was powerful, but she was even more powerful…in a plural sense, meaning that she controlled entire armies…until five minutes ago, when they retreated for no apparent reason to her. _Well_, she thought, looking to Giars, who was standing beside her, _time to let them rebuild._

It was nighttime before the Chrome Scorpions had finished the solitary machine. It stood out in the open, like a tree in a field. It took eight hours for them to move the supplies, and for over 100 men to build it, but it was done. The machine, with a silver lining, was almost entirely black. A twenty-foot screen, accompanied by an internal set of five hundred _million_ microscopic fans, began to blow the most refreshing, clean air you could imagine. In fact, nearly every Scorpion had climbed up there to breathe, so pleased by it that they almost fell off. It stood just at the foot of the Northern Crater, so the waves would push it much faster than it would from a further distance. 

Arington landed the copter, and almost as if on cue, was mirrored by DeVich and Pophioni, nearly fifty meters away. Upon reaching each other, both pairs of people watching the other intently, as if they would strike out at the first opposing moment. "Who are you?" asked DeVich, wondering if this was in the plan to find the cloaked man, or if it was something Pops was plotting out. It was already dark, the sky nearly black, but slightly tinted blue.

As soon as they began to move at the other set, a laugh rung out nearly above them. Everyone, including Arington, DeVich, Pophioni, Giars, and about five hundred Chrome Scorpions looked up onto a null above them, to find the cloaked man standing there. "Fools…", said the man. "Helpless little children. Don't you know who you are?" Everyone looked at each other, then all turned to face the man. "You are the founders of a new nation. A nation that will reign forever." They all gave others a different look, now, wondering what this was all about."…And you are the creators…but you are mindless, drooling little children. Are you fit to destroy an old nation to begin anew? Are you prepared to alleviate your destiny?"

"What are you babbling about, Tirren!?" shouted DeVich, now in rage that he remembered his colleague back in Midgar. As low as the rat was, he didn't deserve to die from _this_ brain-case's hand.

"I am _talking_ about, DeVich, your machine. Pophioni, you now own it. DeVich shall rule the nation, with Arington as the Defense Administrator. She shall provide the proper authorities we need to keep rebels in line. Giars shall help her. Is this clear?"  
"Is _what_ clear!?" replied Arington, not understanding him. It was all starting too fast. The man took a great leap, soaring about 75 feet in the air, and landed perfectly. Nearly everyone was amazed, but tried as hard as they could not to show it. It was the professional thing to do.  
"What _should_ be clear, Arington, is our agreement." Arington looked at him as he reached out a hand, shaped like it would as if he were expecting an agreeable handshake.

"Agreement? To what?"  
"You see these?" asked Tirren. He held up the purple, small vial.

"Those," said DeVich, "are useless. They're not cells, it's sugar water."

"_This_ might be," answered Tirren, smashing the useless little container into several hundred pieces on the ground. "…But _this_ isn't." he continued. He revealed a jar with a purple liquid and small, nearly invisible green balls floating quickly around in it, like a small, glowless lava lamp.

"…You're…that's…" fumbled DeVich.  
"This is Hojo's invention…Modified Cerebral Celliums, or, in English, Jenova Core Modified Cells."

"…Where did you get that!?" asked DeVich, wondering where he had found the true Cells.

"It was from a friend…killed by an enemy…" said Tirren, almost sadly, while looking at Pophioni. The man, no matter how innocent he seemed, was a murderer at heart. For Tirren, he was unforgivable. He had done far too much.

Cloud and the others all peered around the mound of snow, looking into the valley. They watched, looking on as two parked helicopters, over 300 people, and a cloaked figure all stood. The cloaked man was holding something, and was standing in the shadow of a null just above him. Aside from everyone, almost 50 feet right of the cloaked man, was some machine the rebellious Shinra group, now known as the Chrome Scorpions, had just built under three or so hours ago, judging by the shiny, new appearance.

Tyler looked on, mainly, at the cloaked man. He seemed awfully familiar…something was just different about him. His height? His weight? …_His gun?_

Dalmatia looked through his own set of binoculars. _So_, he thought, _this is what they're doing. Arington told me about this…I knew this would happen soon. _So it had.. The Scorpions did just as many things with him as without him. They were almost _always_ a difficult group to work with. Many times they would disappoint him.

Just last year, he had ordered them to take over a Shinra office building. He never told them to kill the hostages and escape by destroying the main computer. Their job was to _take_ files from the machine, and they had gone and blown it to kingdom come. Now there was a much less chance of obedience, especially since he had harped on and ridiculed them…

_Wait a minute_, he thought to himself, _what in the…_ Just below his perch, almost 150 feet above everyone, was Adreyin. _I have a score to settle with him_, he thought. That man had caused enough troubles since the Meteor incident. Those who lived through it must have gone through him at one time or another. And right now would probably be the best time to take care of him.

The group settled down to make camp. It was another mile and a half trip, but it would be worth it. There was no use in barging right into the middle of that interlude while they were very alert. Instead, they were going to move early the next morning to take what they needed, and get out of there. Apparently, they valued their lives and respected Tirren enough to let him stay with them. Camp was set up within three hours, and by then, it was nearly midnight. While the others were asleep, Cloud got up in the middle of the night. Tyler followed, and sat and watched, from a distance, as he practiced with his Buster Sword.

He was bouncing around and swinging as hard as he could at absolutely nothing. It was fairly…_entertaining_, as the President had once put it, to watch such a thing. …But there was one attack in particular that he was doing over and over. He would run about two steps, leap in the air, spin around, and strike behind him. He would always frown when he did it. For thirty minutes or more he worked on it, not improving any. Tyler finally revealed himself by walking out into the middle of Cloud's practice.

"What is it, Tyler?"  
"Nothing. Why are you up this late?"  
"I can't sleep. I keep thinking something is going to happen soon, something I need to be aware about…"  
"What is it?"  
"Well, I wouldn't be saying 'something' if I knew what it was."

"Guess not, Cloud. Why do you keep doing that one move?"  
"Oh, that spin? Dunno. I've been having a problem with it. I've never been able to pull that one off perfectly before…"  
"With one 'p' there are two other 'p's."

"What do you mean?"  
"With perfection, there must be power and patience."  
"Oh. Well…"

"Are you preparing to infiltrate the camp tomorrow?"  
"I guess so. Haven't had my thoughts on anything else, lately."

"Oh. Well, Cloud, Tifa seems worried."  
"That's because she always worried. No big deal," said Cloud, confidently. "She's always like this."

"No big deal," replied Tyler, "until you lose something you'll never get back."

"What are you talking about?"  
"Never mind, Cloud. Go to sleep." Tyler walked off into a large set of tents. Cloud watched him, thinking about what the President might have meant. Until you lose something you'll never get back? Was he talking about?…No, it couldn't have been. That was years ago, and he wasn't anywhere special then. _Besides_, he thought, _I will get Aeris back one day. I will bring her back to life, somehow, and everyone will be happy. Everything will be fine_, he assured himself, _everything will be fine._ Cloud, although he could convince himself, could never change what the past held. Now it was a mirror to him, a shattered mirror. The pieces were held somewhere in the course of time. The only things he needed were power and patience.

"So, what are they doing?" asked a nervous Giars, always in the dark about what Arington was associated with. Arington ignored him for a minute or two, talking to another person when she passed by them. It was now about three in the morning, so it was as dark as it would be that night. The temperature was a breath-taking sixty below zero, and it even penetrated the thick, coarse clothes hey were now wearing. A few tents were scattered here and there, but most of the crowd were awake, either near campfires or walking around to keep warm.

Pophioni was there with DeVich, and the two had talked for the past hour. _They're really into some kind of deal_, thought Arington. _They've only spoken to each other since we all met…well, other than that guy_, she thought, looking at another man standing far from them. He and a group of men dressed exactly like him, nearly in rags, were almost _inside_ the fire. The poor people were freezing to death. They were all in nasty condition, muddy and nasty.

"What are they doing?" repeated Giars.

"Planning," she answered. "That cloaked nut over there has another idea."

"…Which is?"  
"Apparently a good one." He hated it when she gave him an indirect answer like that.

"…Ma'am, what is his plan?"

"He just came up with some idiotic idea that we should put-"

"I just did." The cloaked man glared at her, surprising her from behind. She immediately turned to face him.

"It's a stupid idea," she commented. "why are you being such a fool?"

What _I_ do is none of your concern," he said, and walked towards Pophioni. He opened his mouth to talk, and heard something. He turned in the direction of the sound, and saw it was some man coming over the side of the cliff. Behind him were two men. They all came down to meet Arington, and began to talk to her. Soon, Pophioni, the cloaked man, and DeVich joined them.

"What is the purpose of this?" asked Pophioni, rather loudly. He tapped the end of his cigar into the snow, making it slightly melt. The man smiled, and turned his entire body to face Pophioni.

"I am here to see what my servants are doing."  
"You own these _beasts_?"  
"I own these _people_," said the man. "Are you with or against Shinra?"

"I am against them head-on."  
"Then we shouldn't be fighting. DeVich, brother, how are you?" he asked, holding a hand out, expecting DeVich to grasp it in a friendly handshake. Dalmatia wasn't surprised at all when DeVich spat on his face. Dalmatia wiped it off, and smiled again. "So, you still remember Costa del Sol."  
"Every second of it," answered DeVich. "You can't beat me, Dalmatia. I and my colleagues are invincible."

"…That may be true."  
"You should have realized that. Shinra can't catch me, and neither can you."  
"But I almost did, and you have to admit to that."  
"I don't have to do anything." Dalmatia returned his sour face, then smiled.

"Now, look, I am here to make peace with and between you all. Now, can't we get along?"

"Get this along," said Arington, punching him. He fell to the ground, and one of the men immediately helped him back up. He wiped the blood from his nose onto the back of his hand, and looked up at her. "I had a good, progressing plan. How can you do this?"

"Your plan progressed to nothing. Besides, the only one who would have sent out Andreyin to find me was Giars." Everyone turned to the short, fat man. He looked back at them, and held up his hands.

"Now, wait a minute!" he shouted in defense.

"Giars," said Dalmatia, "you're the only one who has contact with Andreyin. Why did you do that?"

"I didn't do that, I swear! I had nothing to do with that!"

"Yes, I don't-" Dalmatia was cut short when he heard a faint, nearly silent explosion. He turned, and saw the horizon light up.

Tifa's eyes opened, and she felt something pushing on her back and under her knees. She was extremely sleepy, and rubbed her eyes as much as she could stand. When she opened them again, she looked up into Cloud's face, who was looking on at something else. She suddenly realized where she was. He was carrying her, while running, through a burning campsite. How could she have slept through something like this? Cloud looked down at her, and put her to her feet, now realizing that she was awake.

He motioned for her to follow him, which she did. When they reached the outer edge of the camp, Cloud shouted to her, "Stay here! I have to go back in to find the others!" He ran back into the burning mess. She looked around her, and realized she was in a crowd of people. What was going on?

Cloud found Tyler, and the two worked their way around flaming tents. When they returned to where Tifa was, everyone was apparently out. Only one person was missing, and it was all too thick to return, now. Flames roared dozens of feet in the air, burning many people's faces who were too close. They all watched. "Well, it just seems like we can't keep a campsite," said Tyler.

"That's what happens with the cheap ones," said Cid Highwind, working his way through the crowd. "…You never get one with a water hookup. How 'bout that? Electricity, but no water." The pilot met with the President and Cloud, then shook his head.

"Who is doing this? And how come we can't ever find them?" asked the President. Almost as soon as he said it, a flaming arrow sprayed snow into the air as it hit the ground between them. They looked in the direction where it came from, and hundreds more came, being extinguished in the sand, or in the chest of a person. Everyone began to run in all directions to escape the burning projectiles. Cloud ran straight at one of them, to find that it was another one of the Shinra rebel soldiers. He cut the man down, and advanced to the next. There were about twenty men, all dressed in the exact same clothes, carrying the exact same weapons. An arrow came right at Cloud, and a hand reached out to catch it. Cloud looked to his right to see Tifa, her gloved hand holding the safe part of the arrow.

She dropped it, and ran into the small crowd. As many joined Tifa and Cloud, they all fought the soldiers until they were running away. Tifa jumped in the air with excitement, and turned to face Cloud. As soon as she opened her mouth to talk, she heard a faint explosion. Everyone turned to face a glow on the horizon, slowly getting brighter and brighter.

Andreyin watched what was happening from the top of a cliff. He was looking through a pair of night-vision goggles, and was zoomed in on the group that had just been attacked. He cussed quietly, thinking that Dalmatia had declined from his side of the deal. He let down the goggles, and thought about how he was going to take care of the fool now. The man didn't know anything.

His eyes grew wide as he heard a faint sound, almost like a _puff_, and the skyline began to brightly glow.

Across Midgar, especially, it could easily be seen. It was about 3:00 A.M. in the morning, and it wasn't supposed to be this bright, at least not for the first hour that it lasted. It was unnoticeable, just a faint glow. People in Kalm would have thought it to be some lights of cars entering or exiting Midgar. But it grew brighter and brighter. Half an hour later, it was viewable from a far distance. The ground began to slightly vibrate, and then tremor.

Then, it opened up, and Midgar began to slowly descend into the pit. Before anyone realized what was happening, it was too late. Midgar, a city of millions of people, had sunken into e giant crack. It let off green lights, which looked as if they were beams from where the others were, at the Northern Crater. There was a terrible wailing, as if it were billions of voices at once, crying out in torment and pain. The beams of greenish-white light shone onto the clouds above, ending in bright, uneven circles.

Then came a silence, which only lasted for a few seconds. Now was when the light was truly noticeable. It grew brighter and brighter. Then the silence was parted by a scream never heard by human ears; it was like a human, dolphin, bear, lion, and eagle were all screeching at the same time. It must have lasted for thirty seconds, and could have been heard all over the world. Then came the deepest moan ever heard, shaking the ground. It was indescribably loud, but the weird thing was, you could almost whisper to the person next to you.

After the moan came a loud shout, and as soon as the sound was heard, lightning struck right in the center of the crack, and unimaginably illuminated it to a much brighter level than before. It was truly a dream, a nightmare, to watch all of this happen.

"What's going on?" asked Tifa, as soon as the lightning struck. Everyone looked towards Midgar in awe. The lightning once again struck. Then again. And again. As it struck exactly on the one-hundredth time, it froze. Cloud took a step back, completely blown away at what was going on. The bolt stood there, as if nothing was happening. It was a bright column, many arms and legs sprouting in every direction. As Tifa turned to him, she jumped back at the sight of another marvel.

Right in front of her was a snowflake, just sitting in mid-air. She examined it closely. Then she looked around to notice that all the snowflakes had stopped. She reached out, and touched one. It simply melted on her glove, turning to a small black spot, as it would if it were moving. Cid looked up, and took notice of this too. He opened his mouth in surprise, and fumbled for his cigarette pack. He pulled one out, put it in his mouth, and pulled out a match. As he struck it, and held it close to the cigarette, he dropped it. Looking at it with wide eyes, he beheld a match, lying in the snow, with a frozen flame. Light emitted from it, unmoving.

Tyler and Cloud both turned, and everything in their actions stopped. "Uh…guys?" asked President Tyler. "…Take a gander at _that_." Everyone looked around in their direction, and all action stopped in the crowd, too. Beyond them was the burning campsite, everything in place, as it was ten minutes ago, but it had all stopped. Every flame, cloud of smoke, burning tent, scorched item, and falling structure had cut _off_. It was like looking at a three-dimensional picture…there was no sound, no movement, no _life_.

Barret wandered over to a tent, and looked closely at a flame. He examined around it, under it, above it…it had just frozen on the top of a tent, leaving a black ring around it on the green, coarse cloth. He put a finger to it, and jumped back, cussing at the pain. "Yeah," he shouted, "it's still there." He kicked the tent over, and the flame simply fell to the ground, but didn't melt or extinguish in the snow.

Suddenly, a thought shot through Tyler's head. "Hey Cloud," he asked, "what time is it?" Cloud looked at another man's watch beside him.

"Uh…3:31. Why?"

"Okay, is it moving?"

"Yeah." Tyler breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good, I thought time would have stopped, or something." Cid looked back at the man.

"Hey, smart-stuff," he said to Tyler. "Just because time stops doesn't mean a watch has to. It runs on batteries, you know." Tyler looked at him, the threw his hands up.

"Well, there goes the neighborhood."

"Look, I really doubt it," said Cloud. "If time stopped…uh…well, we wouldn't be-" He was cut short by a shout, and as he looked to his right, he saw an injured Chrome Scorpion, lying on his stomach, holding a bow and arrow in the air. He let go of the arrow, and it shot up into the air. It soared up for three seconds, then arched, and came downwards…right through Tifa's back. She turned to Cloud, and looked at him hopelessly, an arrow tip protruding from her chest.

"…Wh…wha…di…Cloud?" she asked, completely stunned at what had happened. Cloud ran to her, but didn't get there in time to catch her. She hit the ground with a _thud_, snow springing up into the air under her impact. Her eyes were wide open as Cloud reached her, and she looked at it, still disbelieving what was going on. A small red circle had formed where the arrow had gone through her body. Cloud looked into her sad, helpless eyes, and she put a hand to his face. They looked at each other for the longest time, unblinking, unbreathing, until her hand turned cold, and left her face. It crumpled, like the rest of her lifeless body, into an unplanned form, settling into the snow. Everyone's breath was taken away at the moment. Tifa? Dead? This was never thought to have happened…

Cloud stood, and looked over at the man who had killed her. He was now dead, his body in a heap much like Tifa's. Cloud's eyes began to grow moist, and his face turned red. _This…isn't…_he struggled with it harder than he did anything else…more than Nibelheim, more than his past, more than _himself_. His memory flashed back to what Laura had said earlier…

They were both standing in the building, talking about Paul's problem, and how he had received his illness. She said it perfectly, after describing the hospital scene. _"Weird, you know, how you never really notice how much you love them until they're in trouble."_

Now it was truer than ever. Cloud turned, and ran in the direction of the Chrome Scorpions' camp. Everyone was even slightly surprised to see him running like that. "Where are you going!?" shouted Tyler, almost wanting to follow Cloud himself. Cloud stopped, and turned, that empty, blank stare on his face.

"Where I need to go. I can't help anyone here. I've only killed people."  
"Cloud, this wasn't you're fau-"

"Yes it was…and let me tell you something else too, Tyler. Forget everything about what's happened. Forget everything that _might_ happen. Only think about what _is_ happening." He turned, and began to run. Tyler watched Cloud, his sword gleaming in the frozen light, and thought for a minute or so before turning to Barret and Cid.  
"Barret, get everyone together. Cid, find a phone. Tell 'em to send three helicopters, and five hundred men by ship."

"Why?" asked Cid. "Are we going to attack them?"

"No," answered the President. "We're going to _beat_ them."

****

Final Fantasy VII:

Fallen existence

Continued in Part II

__


End file.
